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A SELECTION FROM 

POEMS, LYRICS 
CHILD VERSE 
LATER LYRICS 



A SELECTION FROM 
THE VERSES OF 

JOHN B. TABB 

Made by ALICE MEYNELL 




SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY 
BOSTON 

1907 






To 

ALICE MEYNELL 

tie Maker of this 

SeleSiion 

With the Author s very grateful 

Acknowledgment of her 

Kindness 



THE CONTENTS 


V The Playmates Page i 


^' Father Damien Page 26 


My Captive 


2 


; Angels of Pain 


26 


The Reaper 


3 


w God's Likeness 


27 


' Influence 


4 ',/ To the Christ 


28 


Wayfarers 


5 


My Mediator 


28 


To the Sphinx 


6 


"Is thy Servant a 




N/ Love's Autograph 


6 


Dog?" 


29 


Slumber-Song 


7 


Limitation 


30 


V Our First-born 


8 


The Young Tenor 


31 


.',To Silence 


9 


Outlines 


32 


The Expeded of Na- 




Nekros 


33 


tions 


lO 


"Vox Clamantis" 


34 


Y The Postulant 


lO 


To a Photograph 


35 


..'At the Year's End 


1 1 


Frost 


36 


Killdee 


12 


.The Statue 


37 


The Whip-Poor- Will 


13 


r' The Pilgrim 


38 


-l Star-Jessamine 


H 


■ The Mid-Sea Sun 


38 


^ Clover 


15 


* The Lonely Moun- 




' To the Violet 


i6 


tain 


39 


The Water-Lily 


17 


An Influence 


40 


4 Mignonette 


i8 


\ Whisper 


41 


An Idolater 


i8 


Anticipation 


41 


To her First-born 


19 


.^ The Precursor 


42 


Aspiration 


20 


,^ Wood-grain 


43 


,' Childhood 


21 


Consecration 


44 


V To the Babe Niva 


22 


Regret 


45 


^ Good Night ! 


22 


1 Compensation 


46 


Missing 


23 


A Remonstrance 


47 


A Confided 


24 


{ Soothsayers 


48 


"Chanticleer" 


25 


The Araic 


49 



viij THE CONTENTS 


Evolution Page 50 


December P^^/f 76 


Spedators 


51 


The Lark 


17 


The Lost Anchor 


52 


vThe Fall of the Spar- 




To My Shadow 


53 


row 


77 


Cleopatra to the Asp 


54 


The Marsh 


78 


Intimations 


55 


Fulfilment 


79 


Loves Hybla 


56 


Betrayal 


79 


The Sleeping Beauty 


57 


The Dayspring 


80 


Adieu 


58 


The Midday Moon 


80 


Westward 


59 


Meadow Frogs 


81 


Memory 


60 


Fern Song 


82 


Light in Darkness 


61 


Winter Trees 


83 


Bereft 


62 


Baby's Dimples 


83 


Outspeeded 


63 


A Bunch of Roses 


84 


Vale 


64 


To a Star 


85 


O'erspent 


64 


Beethoven and Angelo 86 | 


Wrecked 


65 


Milton 


86 


Bread 


66 


Shelley 


87 


Sand 


67 


Shelley in Nature 


88 


Life 


68 


Keats — Sappho 


89 


{ The Truant 


69 


Poe's Purgatory 


90 


The Bubble 


69 


Silence 


9^ 


The Mist 


70 


Daybreak 


92 


The Brook 


70 


Glimpses 


93 


The Lake 


' 71 


Homeless 


94 


Ice 


72 


Unmoored 


95 


A Sunset 


73 


The Agony 


96 


Midnight 


74 


The Petrel 


97 


Autumn 


74 


The Portrait 


98 


Odober 


75 


\The Boy Bishop 


99 


«,5 Indian Summer 


76 


Asleep 


100 



THE CONTENTS 


xi 


St Afra to the Page 




The Lamb-Child P^^^ 


III 


Flames 


lOI 


Out of Bounds 


III 


An Interpreter 


I02 


A Lenten Thought 


112 


4 Earth's Tribute 


103 


y On Calvary 


113 


s\ Holy Ground 


103 


Mater Dolorosa 


113 


The Householders 


104 


Stabat 


114 


V Insomnia 


104 


Rabboni! 


114 


^r Anonymous 


105 


Easter Morning 


115 


Bartimeus to the Bird 


105 


Easter Lilies 


115 


The Old Pastor 


106 


m' Easter Lambs 


116 


' At Sea '^ 


106 


'The Assumption 


116 


Stilling the Tempest 


107 


Triumph 


117 


All in All ,,, 


107 


My Angel 


118 


.^'The Good Seed io8- 


-109 


To Her Three Days' 




The Angel's Christ- 




Child 


119 


mas Quest 


1 10 


V Ave atque Vale 


120 



THE PLAYMATES 



w 



THE PLAYMATES 
HO are thy playmates, boy? 



My favourite is Joy, 
Who brings with him his sister, Peace, to stay 
The livelong day. 
I love them both; but he 
Is most to me." 

And where thy playmates now, 

O man of sober brow ? 

"Alas! dear Joy, the merriest, is dead. 

But I have wed 

Peace; and our babe, a boy 

New-born, is Joy." 



MY CAPTIVE 



MY CAPTIVE 

I BROUGHT a Blossom home with me 
Beneath my roof to stay ; 
But timorous and frail was she, 

And died before the day: 
She missed the measureless expanse 
Of heaven, and heaven her countenance. 



THE REAPER 



T 



THE REAPER 

ELL me whither, maiden June, 
Down the dusky slope of noon, 
With thy sickle of a moon, 
Goest thou to reap. 

" Fields of Fancy by the stream 
Of night in silvery silence gleam, 
To heap with many a harvest-dream 
The granary of Sleep." 



INFLUENCE 



INFLUENCE 

HE cannot as he came depart — 
The wind that woos the rose; 
Her fragrance whispers in his heart 
Wherever hence he goes. 



WAYFARERS 



WAYFARERS 

O COMRADE Sun, that day by day 
Dost weave a shadow on my way, 
Lest, in the luxury of light. 
My soul forget the neighbouring night: 
Wilt thou whene'er, my journey done, 
Thou wanderest our path upon. 
Bear in thy beams a memory 
Of one who walked the world with thee. 
Or mourn, amid the lavishness 
Of Life, one hovering shade the less ? 



LOVE'S AUTOGRAPH 



A 



TO THE SPHINX 
H, not alone in Egypt's desert land 



•Thy dwelling-place apart ! 
But wheresoever the scorching passion-sand 
Hath seared the human heart. 



LOVE'S AUTOGRAPH 

NCE only did he pass my way. 
" When wilt thou come again ? 
Ah, leave some token of thy stay ! " 
He wrote (and vanished), " Pain." 



o 



SLUMBER-SONG 



SLUMBER-SONG 

SLEEP ! the spirits that attend 
On thy waking hours are fled. 
Heaven thou canst not now offend 

Till thy slumber-plumes are shed ; 
Consciousness alone doth lend 

Life its pain, and Death its dread ; 
Innocence and Peace befriend 
All the sleeping and the dead. 



OUR FIRST-BORN 



OUR FIRST-BORN 

IT died so young! and yet 
Of all that vanished hence, 
Is none to lingering Regret 
So lost as Innocence. 

For wheresoe'er we go, 

Whatever else remain. 
That Favourite of Heaven we know 

We shall not find again. 



TO SILENCE 



TO SILENCE 

Why the warning finger-tip 
Pressed for ever on my lip? 

To remind the pilgrim Sound 
That it moves on holy ground, 
In a breathing-space to be 
Hushed for all eternity. 



10 THE POSTULANT 



THE POSTULANT 

IN ashes from the wasted fires of noon, 
Aweary of the light, 
Comes evening, a tearful novice, soon 
To take the veil of night. 



THE EXPECTED OF NATIONS 

WHILE Shepherd Stars their nightly vigils 
keep 
Above the clouds of sleep. 
Long prophesied, behold the man-child, Morn, 
Again is born. 



AT THE YEAR'S END ii 



AT THE YEAR'S END 

NIGHT dreams of day, and winter seems 
In sleep to breathe the balm of May. 
Their dreams are true anon; but they, 
The dreamers, then, alas, are dreams. 

Thus, while our days the dreams renew 

Of some forgotten sleeper, we. 

The dreamers of futurity. 

Shall vanish when our own are true. 



12 KILLDEE 



KILLDEE 

KILLDEE! Killdee! far o'er the lea 
At twilight comes the cry. 
Killdee! a marsh-mate answereth 
Across the shallow sky. 

Killdee! Killdee! thrills over me 

A rhapsody of light, 
As star to star gives utterance 

Between the day and night. 

Killdee! Killdee! O Memory, 
The twin birds, Joy and Pain, 

Like shadows parted by the sun, 
At twilight meet again! 



THE WHIP-POOR-WILL 13 



THE WHIP-POOR-WILL 

FROM yonder wooded hill 
I hear the Whip-poor-will, 
Whose mate or wandering echo answers him 
Athwart the lowlands dim. 

He calls not through the day; 
But when the shadows gray 

Across the sunset draw their lengthening veil, 

He tells his twilight tale. 

What unforgotten wrong 
Haunts the ill-omened song? 

What scourge of Fate has left its loathed mark 

Upon the cringing dark ? 

"Whip! Whip-poor-will!" 
O sobbing voice, be still ! 

Tell not again, O melancholy bird, 

The legend thou hast heard ! 



14 STAR-JESSAMINE 



STAR-JESSAMINE 

DISCERNING Star from Sister Star, 
We give to each its name; 
But ye, O countless Blossoms, are 

In fragrance and in flame 
So like, that He from whom ye came 
Alone discerncth each by name. 



CLOVER 15 



CLOVER 

LITTLE masters! hat in hand, 
Let me in your presence stand. 
Till your silence solve for me 
This your threefold mystery. 

Tell me — for I long to know — 
How, in darkness there below. 
Was your fairy fabric spun, 
Spread and fashioned, three in one. 

Did your gossips gold and blue. 
Sky and Sunshine, choose for you. 
Ere your triple forms were seen. 
Suited liveries of green ? 

Can ye — if ye dwelt indeed 
Captives of a prison seed — 
Like the Genie, once again 
Get you back into the grain ? 

Little masters, may I stand 
In your presence, hat in hand. 
Waiting till you solve for me 
This your threefold mystery ? 



i6 TO THE VIOLET 



TO THE VIOLET 

SWEET violet, who knows 
From whence thy fragrance flows 
Or whither hence it goes ? 

A pious pilgrim here 
To Winter's sepulchre 
Thou comest year by year; 

Alert with balmier store 
Than Magdalen of yore 
To Love's anointing bore. 

Methinks that thou hast been 

So oft the go-between 

'Twixt sight and things unseen 

That with thy wafted breath 

Alternate echoeth 

Each bank of sundering Death. 



THE WATER-LILY 



17 



w 



THE WATER-LILY 

HENCE, O fragrant form of light, 
Has thou drifted through the night. 

Swanlike, to a leafy nest. 

On the restless waves, at rest ? 

Art thou from the snowy zone 
Of a mountain-summit blown, 
Or the blossom of a dream. 
Fashioned in the foamy stream ? 

Nay, methinks the maiden moon. 
When the daylight came too soon. 
Fleeting from her bath to hide. 
Left her garment in the tide. 



i8 MIGNONETTE 



MIGNONETTE 

GIVE me the earth, and I might heap 
A mountain from the plain; 
Give me the waters of the deep, 

I might their strength restrain; 
But here a secret of the sod 
Betrays the daintier hand of God. 



AN IDOLATER 

THE Baby has no skies 
But Mother's eyes ; 
Nor any God above 

But Mother's love. 
His Angel sees the Father's face. 

But He the Mother's, full of grace; 
And yet the Heavenly Kingdom is 
Of such as this. 



TO HER FIRST-BORN 19 



TO HER FIRST-BORN 

LONG I waited, wondering 
How, so near my heart. 
Love another life could bring. 

Made of mine a part. 
Nor let me, save in fancy, gaze 
Soul-centred, on the cloistered face ! 

But now, the mystery removed. 
Thou liest on my breast, 

A form so fervently beloved. 
So tenderly caressed. 

That as my spirit compassed thine. 

Thy soul the limit seems of mine. 

So life, that vanishes anon. 

Perchance about us lies 
Too near for Love to look upon 

With unanointed eyes. 
Till, past the interval of pain. 
We clasp the living form again. 



20 ASPIRATION 



ASPIRATION 

I ENVY not the sun 
His lavish light ; 
But O to be the one 
Pale orb of night, 
In silence and alone 
Communing with mine own! 

I envy not the rain 

That freshens all 
The parching hill and plain ; 

But O the small 
Night-dewdrop now to be, 
My noonday flower, for thee! 



CHILDHOOD 21 



o 



CHILDHOOD 

LD Sorrow I shall meet again, 



And Joy, perchance — but never, never, 
Happy Childhood, shall we twain 
See each other^s face for ever! 

And yet I would not call thee back, 
Dear Childhood, lest the sight of me. 

Thine old companion, on the rack 
Of Age, should sadden even thee. 



22 GOODNIGHT! 



TO THE BABE NIVA 

NIVA, Child of Innocence, 
Dust to dust we go : 
Thouy when Winter wooed thee hence, 
Wentest snow to snow. 



GOOD NIGHT ! 

GOOD night, dear Lord! and now 
Let them that loved to keep 
Thy little bed in Bethlehem, 
Be near me while I sleep; 
For I — more helpless, Lord — of them 
Have greater need than Thou. 



MISSING 23 



MISSING 

THOU that didst leave the ninety and the 
nine 

To seek the one, 
Behold, among the many that are mine, 
A lamb is gone. 

The one perchance the worthiest to be, 

Dear Lord, with Thee ; 
And so the saddest for the Mother's heart 

With him to part. 

O Thou, Thyself a mourning Mother's Son, 
Fold close my little one! 



24 CONFIDED 


CONFIDED 

A NOTHER lamb, O Lamb of God, behold, 
-/jL Within this quiet fold. 
Among Thy Father's sheep 

I lay to sleep! 
A heart that never for a night did rest 

Beyond its mother's breast. 

Lord, keep it close to Thee, 
Lest waking it should bleat and pine for me! 



"CHANTICLEER" 25 



" CHANTICLEER " 

A CROWING, cuddling little Babe was he, 
A child for little children far or near. 
When he stood and crowed upon his mother's 
knee, 
The morning echoed, " Welcome, Chanti- 
cleer!" 
He was a crowing, cuddling little Babe! 

When his mother wore, alas, her life away. 
He was wonder wide to see the children weep; 

But he crowed, and cuddled close enough to lay 
His head upon her heart, and went to sleep: — 

He was a cuddling, crowing little Babe! 

God Himself was tender to him; for, behold. 
An Angel in a dream (the children said) 

Came and kissed him till his little cheek was cold; 
So he never saw the tears the Twilight shed. 

He was a crowing, cuddling little Babe! 



26 ANGELS OFPAIN 



FATHER DAMIEN 

OGOD, the cleanest offering 
Of tainted earth below, 
Unblushing to Thy feet we bring — 
" A leper white as snow!" 



ANGELS OF PAIN 

AH, should they come revisiting the spot 
Whence by our prayers we drove them 
utterly, 
Shame were it for their saddened eyes to see 
How soon their visitations are forgot. 



\ 



GOD'S LIKENESS 27 



GOD'S LIKENESS 

NOT in mine own, but in my neigh- 
bour's face 
Must I Thine image trace: 
Nor he in his, but in the light of mine, 
Behold Thy Face Divine. 



28 MY MEDIATOR 



TO THE CHRIST 

THOU hast on earth a Trinity — 
Thyself, my fellow-man and me; 
When one with him, then one with Thee; 
Nor, save together, Thine are we. 



MY MEDIATOR 

" ^V T ONE betwixt God and me ? 
-L^ Behold, my neighbour, thee 
Unto His lofty throne 
He makes my stepping-stone." 



i 



"IS THY SERVANT A DOG?" 29 



"IS THY SERVANT A DOG?" 

SO must he be who, in the crowded street, 
Where shameless Sin and flaunting Pleasure 
meet, 
Amid the noisome footprints finds the sweet 
Faint vestige of Thy feet. 



3£. 



LIMITATION 



LIMITATION 

BREATHE above me or below ; 
Never canst thou farther go 
Than the spirit's octave-span, 
Harmonizing God and Man. 

Thus within the iris-bound 
Light a prisoner is found ; 
Thus within my soul I see 
Life in Time's captivity. 



THE YOUNG TENOR 31 



THE YOUNG TENOR 

I WOKE ; the harboured melody 
Had crossed the slumber bar, 
And out upon the open sea 

Of consciousness, afar 
Swept onward with a fainter strain, 
As echoing the dream again. 

So soft the silver sound, and clear, 
Outpoured upon the night. 

That Silence seemed a listener 
O'erleaning with delight 

The slender moon, a finger-tip 

Upon the portal of her lip. 



32 OUTLINES 



OUTLINES 

O FRAME me in thy love, as I 
The landscape in the branches low ; 
That none beneath the bending sky 
Our sylvan secret knovi^. 

For 'tis of Life the mystery 
That, whereso'er its fibres run. 

In time or in eternity, 
The many shape the one. 



N E K R O S 33 



NEKROS 

LO ! all thy glory gone ! 
God's masterpiece undone! 
The last created and the first to fall ; 
The noblest, frailest, godliest of all. 

Death seems the conqueror now, 

And yet his victor thou : 

The fatal shaft its venom quenched in the 

A mortal raised to immortality. 

Child of the humble sod, 
Wed with the breath of God, 
Descend ! for with the lowest thou must lie- 
Arise ! thou hast inherited the sky. 



34 ^^VOX CLAMANTIS" 



"VOX CLAMANTIS" 

OSEA, for ever calling to the shore 
With menace or caress, — 
A voice like his unheeded that of yore 

Cried in the w^ilderness ; 
A deep for ever yearning unto deep, 

For silence out of sound, — 
Thy restlessness the cradle of a sleep 
That thou hast never found. 



TO A PHOTOGRAPH 35 



TO A PHOTOGRAPH 

O TENDER shade ! 
Lone captive of enamoured Light, 
That from an angel visage bright 
A glance betrayed. 

Dost thou not sigh 
To wander from thy prison-place ? 
To seek again the vanished face, 

Or else to die ? 

A shade like thee, 
Dim Eidolon — a dream disproved — 
A memory of light removed. 

Behold in me ! 



36 FROST 



FROST 

I LEFT my window wide, for Love 
To enter while I slept : 
The moon, his homeward path above 
Her midnight vigil kept. 

But suddenly, as o'er a glass, 

A clouding vapour spread ; 
The heavens were cold : and Love, alas! 

Before the dawn was dead. 



THE STATUE 37 



THE STATUE 

FIRST fashioned in the artist's brain, 
It stood as in the marble vein 
Revealed to him alone ; 
Nor could he from its native night 
Have led it to the living light, 
Save through the lifeless stone. 

E'en so, of Silence and of Sound 
A twin-born mystery is found. 

Like as of death and birth ; 
Without the pause wt had not heard 
The harmony, nor caught the w^ord 

That Heaven reveals to Earth. 



38 THE MID-SEA SUN 



THE PILGRIM 

WHEN, but a child, I wandered hence. 
Another child — sweet Innocence, 
My sister — went with me : 
But I have lost her, and am fain 
To seek her in the home again 
Where we were wont to be. 



N 



THE MID-SEA SUN 
O peak to hide his splendour till the day 



Has passed away ; 
Nor dial-shade of any tree or flower 

To mark the hour : 
A wave his orient cradle, and a wave 

His western grave. 



THE LONELY MOUNTAIN 39 



THE LONELY MOUNTAIN 

ONE bird, that ever with the wakening spring 
Was wont to sing, 
I wait, through all my woodlands, far and near. 
In vain to hear. 

The voice of many waters, silent long. 

Breaks forth in song; 
Young breezes to the listening leaves outpour 

Their heavenly lore : 

A thousand other winged warblers sweet. 

Returning, greet 
Their fellows, and rebuild upon my breast 

The wonted nest. 

But unto me one fond familiar strain 

Comes not again — 
A breath whose faintest echo, farthest heard, 

A mountain stirred. 



40 AN INFLUENCE 



AN INFLUENCE 

I SEE thee, — heaven's unclouded face 
A vacancy around thee made, 
Its sunshine a subservient grace 
Thy loveHer light to shade. 

I feel thee, as the billows feel 
A river freshening the brine ; 

A life's libation poured to heal 
The bitterness of mine. 



ANTICIPATION 41 



WHISPER 

CLOSE cleaving unto Silence, into sound 
She ventures as a timorous child from land, 
Still glancing, at each wary step, around. 
Lest suddenly she lose her sister's hand. 



ANTICIPATION 

THE master scans the w^oven score 
Of subtle harmonies, before 
A note is stirred; 
And Nature now^ is pondering 
The tidal symphony of Spring, 
As yet unheard. 



42 THE PRECURSOR 



THE PRECURSOR 
"AS John ot old before His face did go 
XJlTo make the rough ways smooth, that all 
might know 
The level road that leads to Bethlehem, lo, 
I come," proclaims the snow. 



WOOD-GRAIN 43 



WOOD-GRAIN 

THIS is the way that the sap-river ran 
From the root to the top of the tree- 
Silent and dark, 
Under the bark, 
Working a wonderful plan 
That the leaves never know, 
And the branches that grow 
On the brink of the tide never see. 



44 CONSECRATION 



CONSECRATION 

THE Twilight to my Star, 
Her hoary head 
A Hope receding far, 
To Life re-led. 

Apart and poor I lay, 

My fevered frame 
Slow withering away, 

When soft she came, 

From comfort, to my care; 

And Pity sweet 
Subdued her, kneeling there, 

To kiss my feet, 

A Magdalen adored 
Her God in Thee: — 

A greater love, O Lord, 
Anointed me. 



REGRET 45 



REGRET 

WHAT pleading passion or the dark 
Hath left the Morning pale ? 
She listens! " 'Tis, alas, the Lark, 

And not the Nightingale! 
O for the gloom-encircled sphere, 

Whose solitary bird 
Outpours for Love's awakening car 
What noon hath never heard!" 



46 COMPENSATION 



COMPENSATION 

HOW many an acorn falls to die 
For one that makes a tree! 
How many a heart must pass me by 
For one that cleaves to me! 

How many a suppliant wave of sound 

Must still unheeded roll, 
For one low utterance that found 

An echo in my soul! 



A REMONSTRANCE 47 



A REMONSTRANCE 

SING me no more, sweet warbler, for the dart 
Of joy is keener than the flash of pain: 
Sing me no more, for the re-echoed strain 
Together with the silence breaks my heart. 



48 SOOTHSAYERS 



SOOTHSAYERS 

THE winds that, gipsy-wise, foretold 
The fortune of to-day, 
At twilight, with the gathered gold 
Of sunset, stole away: 

And of their cloud accomplices 

That prophesied the rain. 
Upon the night-forsaken skies 

No vestiges remain. 



THE ARCTIC 49 



THE ARCTIC 

IS it a shroud or bridal veil 
That hides it from our sight, 
The lonely sepulchre of Day, 
Or banquet-hall of Night? 

Are those the lights of revelry 
That glimmer o'er the deep, 

Or flashes of a funeral pyre 
Above the corpse of Sleep? 

Beyond those peaks impregnable 

Of everlasting snow, 
One star — a steadfast beacon — burns 

To guard the coast belov^. 

Whence come the ghostly galleons 
The pirate Sun to brave, : 

And furl the shadow^y flag of Death 
Above a warmer grave ? 



50 EVOLUTION 



EVOLUTION 

OUT of the dusk a shadow, 
Then, a spark; 
Out of the cloud a silence, 

Then, a lark; 
Out of the heart a rapture, 

Then, a pain; 
Out of the dead cold ashes, 
Life again. 



SPECTATORS 51 



SPECTATORS 

AROUND us, wheresoe'er we tread, 
The while our shadows pass them by, 
As in Bethsaida's porch the dead 

With upturned faces lie, 
Dreading, perchance, the vanished light, 

And Life's subsided fever-breath. 
As we the charnel-house of Night 
Beyond the Vale of Death. 



52 THE LOST ANCHOR 



THE LOST ANCHOR 

AH, sweet it was to feel the strain, 
What time, unseen, the ship above 
Stood steadfast to the storm that strove 
To rend our kindred cords atwain ! 

To feel, as feel the roots that grow 
In darkness when the stately tree 
Resists the tempests, that in me 

High Hope was planted far below ! 

But now, as when a mother's breast 
Misses the babe, my prisoned power 
Deep-yearning, heart-like, hour by hour, 

Unquiet aches in cankering rest. 



TOMYSHADOW 53 



TO MY SHADOW 

FRIEND for ever in the light 
Cleaving to my side, 
Harbinger of endless night 
That must soon betide; 

"Hither," seemest thou to say, 
"From the twilight now: 

In the darkness when I stay. 
Never thence wilt thou." 



54 CLEOPATRA TO THE ASP 



CLEOPATRA TO THE ASP 

* T)ost thou not see my baby at my breast. 
That suc1{s the nurse asleep ? " 

LIE thou where Life hath lain, 
And let thy swifter pain 
His rival prove ; 
Till, like the fertile Nile, 
Death buries, mile for mile, 
This waste of Love. 

Soft ! Soft ! A sweeter kiss 
Than Antony's is this ! 

O regal Shade, 
Luxurious as sleep. 
Upon thy bosom deep 

My heart is laid. 



INTIMATIONS 55 



INTIMATIONS 

I KNEW the flowers had dreamed of you, 
And hailed the morning with regret ; 
For all their faces with the dew 
Of vanished joy were wet. 

I knew the winds had passed your way, 
Though not a sound the truth betrayed ; 

About their pinions all the day 
A summer fragrance stayed. 

And so, awaking or asleep, 

A memory of lost delight 
By day the sightless breezes keep, 

And silent flowers by night. 



56 LOVE'S HYBLA 



LOVE'S HYBLA 

MY thoughts fly to thee, as the bees 
To find their favourite flower ; 
Then home, with honeyed memories 
Of many a fragrant hour : 

For with thee is the place apart 
Where sunshine ever dwells, 

The Hybla, whence my hoarding heart 
Would fill its wintry cells. 



THE SLEEPING BEAUTY 57 



THE SLEEPING BEAUTY 

THE sculptor in the marble found 
Her hidden from the world around, 
As in a donjon keep : 
With gentle hand he took away 
The coverlet that o'er her lay, 
But left her fast asleep. 

And still she slumbers ; e'en as he 
Who saw in far futurity 

What now before us lies — 
The fairest vision that the stream 
Of night, subsiding, leaves agleam 

Beneath the noonday skies. 



58 ADIEU 



ADIEU 

GOD speed thee setting Sun ! 
Thy beams for me have spun 
Of light to-day 
A memory that one 
Alone could bring, and none 
Can take away. 



WESTWARD 59 



WESTWARD 

AND dost thou lead him hence with thee, 
O setting sun, 
And leave the shadows all to me, 

When he is gone ? 
Ah, if my grief his guerdon be, 

My dark his light, 
I count each loss felicity. 
And bless the night. 



6o MEMORY 



MEMORY 

LO, the Blossom to the Bee 
Yields not more than thou to me- 
Food for Love to live upon 
When the summer days are gone, 
Poorer than they came, to find 
What was sweetest left behind. 



LIGHT IN DARKNESS 6i 



LIGHT IN DARKNESS 

THE day — of sorrows pitiless— 
Proclaims " He is not here"; 
But never hath the tenderness 
Of Night denied thee near. 

Nay, with the twilight sympathy 

Returning from afar, 
She wakes again for memory 

The dawn-extinguished star. 



62 BEREFT 



BEREFT 

AS when her calf is taken, far and near 
The restless mother roves, 
So now my heart lows, wandering everywhere, 

To wake the voice it loves. 
O distance, are the echoes backward thrown 

In mockery of pain? 
Or doth remembered anguish of thine own 
Bring them to birth again ? 



OUTSPEEDED 63 



OUTSPEEDED 

TO-NIGHT the onward rushing train 
Would bear thee far from me ; 
But, winged with swifter dreams, again 
My spirit flies to thee; 

Nay, speeding far beyond thee, waits 

To welcome thee anew. 
Where Dawn is opening the gates 

To let the darkness through. 



64 O'ERSPENT 



VALE 

FAREWELL! I go my way; 
And if in long delay 
Thou must remain, 
Forget not, 'tis the track 
We trod, that leads us back 
To God again. 



O'ERSPENT 

MY soul is as a fainting noonday star, 
And thou, the absent night; 
Haste, that thy healing shadow from afar 
May touch me into light. 



WRECKED 65 



WRECKED 

DEEP in the forest glades, 
Where leafy welcomes wooed our wander- 
ing way, 
Once blent our shadows in the dallying shades 
That round us lay. 

Thenceforth, of fate estranged. 

Each day beholds our widowed forms apart: 
The word, the glance, the gesture coldly changed ! 
As heart to heart. 

But Cometh night to hide 

Life-wrecks, far drifted in the noonday sun. 
And, lo, our shadows in the sombre tide. 
Again are one. 



66 BREAD 



BREAD 

STILL surmounting as I came 
Wind and water, frost and flame, 
Night and day, the livelong year, 
From the burial-place of seed. 
From the earth's maternal bosom. 
Through the root and stem and blossom. 
To supply thy present need. 
Have I journeyed here. 



SAND 67 



SAND 

STERILE sister though I be, 
Twin-born to the barren Sea, 
Yet of all things fruitful we 
Wait the end ; and presently, 
Lo, they are not ! Then to me 
(Children to the nurse's knee) 
Come the billows fresh and free, 
Breathing Immortality. 



68 THE MIST 



LIFE 

ME, in the midst of dateless centuries, 
By Love concealed, 
Now, newly swathed in mortal destinies, 
Hath Time revealed. 

A breathing space, a silence, and behold 

What I have been. 
Unswathed, the circling centuries enfold, 

Again unseen. 

With Days and Nights brief fellowship was mine; 

But unto thee 
I come, a child inseparably thine, 

Eternity. 



THE BUBBLE 69 



THE TRUANT 

LISTEN! 'tis the Rain 
Coming home again ; 

Not as when he went away, 

Silent, but in tears to say- 
He is sorry to have gone 
With the Mist that lured him on ; 
And he promises anew 
Nevermore the like to do. 

Alas! no sooner shines the sun 

Than the selfsame deed is done. 



THE BUBBLE 

WHY should I stay ? Nor seed nor fruit have I ; 
But, sprung at once to beauty's perfect round, 
Nor loss, nor gain, nor change in me is found, — 
A life-complete in death-complete to die. 



70 THEBROOK 



THE BROOK 

IT is the mountain to the sea 
That makes a messenger of me : 
And, lest I loiter on the way 
And lose what I am sent to say, 
He sets his reverie to song 
And bids me sing it all day long. 
Farewell! for here the stream is slow, 
And I have many a mile to go. 



THE MIST 

EURYDICE eludes the dark 
To follow Orpheus, the Lark 
That leads her to the dawn 

With rhapsodies of star-delight, 
• Till, looking backward in his flight, 
He finds that she is gone. 



THE LAKE 71 



THE LAKE 

I AM a lonely woodland lake: 
The trees that round me grow, 
The glimpse of heaven above me, make 
The sum of all I know. 

The mirror of their dreams to be 

Alike in shade and shine, 
To clasp in Love's captivity, 

And keep them one — is mine. 



72 ICE 



ICE 

I ONCE' was waterj and again 
My former self shall be; 
No keep of Cold 
May captive hold 

A spirit of the Sea. 
Beyond this prison-wall of Pain, 

So echoless and chill, 
Despite his guardsmen Frost and Snow, 
Anon through Dimple-gate I go 

To wander where I will. 



A SUNSET 



73 



A SUNSET 

WHAT means it, Lord? No Daniel 
In Nature's banquet-hall 
Appears, thy messenger, to spell 
The writing on the wall. 

Is it the Babylonian doom, 

A kingdom passed away, 
A midnight monarch to assume 

The majesty of Day? 



74 MIDNIGHT 



MIDNIGHT 

A FLOOD of darkness overwhelms the land; 
And all that God had planned, 
Of loveliness beneath the noonday skies, 
A dream o'ershadow^ed lies. 

Amid the universal darkness deep. 
Only the Isles of sleep, 
As did the dvi^ellings of the Israelite 
In Egypt, stem the night. 

AUTUMN 

NOW at the aged Year's decline, 
Behold the messenger divine 
With Love's celestial countersign — 
The sacrament of bread and vv^ine. 



OCTOBER 75 



B 



OCTOBER 
EHOLD, the fleeting swallow 



'Forsakes the frosty air; 
And leaves, alert to follow, 

■Are falling everywhere. 
Like wounded birds, too weak 
A distant clime to seek. 

And soon with silent pinions 
The fledglings of the North 

From winter's wild dominions 
Shall drift, affrighted, forth. 

And, phantom-like, anon 

Pursue the phantoms gone. 



76 DECEMBER 



INDIAN SUMMER 

NO more the battle or the chase 
The phantom tribes pursue, 
But each in its accustomed place 

The Autumn hails anew: 
And still from solemn councils set 

On every hill and plain, 
The smoke of many a calumet 
Ascends to heaven again. 



DECEMBER 

ULL sky above, dead leaves below; 

'And hungry winds that winding go. 
Like faithful hounds upon the track 
Of one beloved that comes not back. 



D 



FALL OF THE SPARROW 77 



THE LARK 

HE rose, and singing passed from sight- 
A shadow kindling with the sun, 
His joy ecstatic flamed, till light 
And heavenly song were one. 



THE FALL OF THE SPARROW 

ARE you dying, little Bird ? 
"Yea; the song so often heard, 
And the gift of suffering, 
Back to God again I bring. 

" All in each, and each in all. 
Counting in the Sparrow's fall. 
By the power of sinless pain 
(His and ours) He cleanseth stain. 
Suffering, He deigned to die 
Poor and innocent as I,'* 



78 THE MARSH 



THE MARSH 

THE woods have voices, and the sea 
Her choral-song and threnody: 
But thou alike to sun and rain 
Dost mute and motionless remain. 

As pilgrim to the shrine of Sleep, 
Through all thy solemn spaces creep 
The Tides — a moment on thy breast 
To pause in sacramental rest; 
Then, flooded with the mystery, 
To sink reluctant to the sea. 
In landward loneliness to yearn 
Till to thy bosom they return. 



BETRAYAL 79 



FULFILMENT 

NO bloom forgotten! but upon each face 
The dews baptismal, and the selfsame sign 
Of Night's communion, that the fervid gaze 
Of Paschal Morning changes into wine. 



BETRAYAL 
" TTTHOM I shall kiss ?" I heard a Sunbeam say, 

VV "Take him and lead away!" 
Then, with the Traitor's salutation, ^^Hail!" 
He kissed the Dawn-Star pale. 



8o THE MIDDAY MOON 



THE DAYSPRING 

WHAT hand with spear of light 
Hath cleft the side of Night, 
And from the red wound wide 
Fashioned the Dawn, his bride 

Was it the deed of Death ? 
Nay, but of Love, that saith, 
" Henceforth be Shade and Sun, 
In bonds of Beauty, one." 



THE MIDDAY MOON 

BEHOLD, whatever wind prevail, 
Slow westering, a phantom sail — 
The lonely soul of Yesterday — 
Unpiloted, pursues her way. 



MEADOW FROGS 8i 



MEADOW FROGS 

ERE yet the earliest warbler wakes 
Of coming spring to tell, 
From every marsh a chorus breaks — 

A choir invisible — 
As though the blossoms underground 
A breath of utterance had found. 

Whence comes the liquid melody ? 

The summer clouds can bring 
No fresher music from the sky 

Than here the marshes sing. 
Methinks the mists about to rise 
Are chanting their rain prophecies. 



82 FERNSONG 



FERN SONG 



D 



ANCE to the beat of the rain, little Fern, 



And spread out your palms again. 

And say, " Tho' the sun 

Hath my vesture spun. 
He had laboured, alas, in vain. 

But for the shade 

That the Cloud hath made. 
And the gift of the Dew^ and the Rain. 

Then laugh and upturn 

All your fronds, little Fern, 
And rejoice in the beat of the rain ! 



BABY'S DIMPLES 83 



WINTER TREES 

LIKE champions of old, 
Their garments at their feet, 
Defiant of the cold, 

The wrestling winds they meet 
Anon, if victors found. 
With vernal trophies crowned. 



BABY'S DIMPLES 

LOVE goes playing hide-and-seek 
'Mid the roses on her cheek. 
With a little imp of Laughter, 
Who, the while he follows after. 
Leaves the footprints that we trace 
All about the Kissing-place. 



84 A BUNCH OF ROSES 



A BUNCH OF ROSES 

THE rosy mouth and rosy toe 
Of little baby brother 
Until about a month a ago 

Had never met each other; 
But nowadays the neighbours sweet, 

In every sort of weather, 
Half-way with rosy fingers meet, 
To kiss and play together. 



TOASTAR 85 



TO A STAR 

AM I the only child awake 
Beneath thy midnight beams? 
If so, for gentle Slumber's sake, 
The brighter be their dreams! 

But shouldst thou, travelling the deep, 

The silent angel see 
That puts the little ones to sleep. 

Bright star, remember me! 



86 MILTON 



BEETHOVEN AND ANGELO 

ONE made the surging sea of tone 
Subservient to his rod: 
One, from the sterile womb of stone, 
Raised children unto God. 



MILTON 

SO fair thy vision that the night 
Abided v^rith thee, lest the light, 
A flaming sword before thine eyes. 
Had shut thee out from Paradise. 



SHELLEY 


87 


SHELLEY 




A T Shelle/s birth 
-Z^The Lark, dawn-spirit, with 




an anthem loud 


Rose from the dusky earth 




To tell it to the Cloud, 




That, like a flower night-folded i 


n the gloom. 


Burst into morning bloom. 




At Shelley's death 




The Sea, that deemed him an 


immortal, saw 


A god's extinguished breath. 




And landward, as in awe, 




Upbore him to the altar whence he came, | 


And the rekindling flame. 





88 SHELLEY 



SHELLEY IN NATURE 

SHELLEY, the ceaseless music of thy soul 
Breathes in the Cloud and in the Skylark's song, 

That float as an embodied dream along 
The dewy lids of morning. In the dole 
That haunts the West Wind, in the joyous roll 

Of Arethusan fountains, or among 

The wastes where Ozymandias the strong 
Lies in colossal ruin, thy control 
Speaks in the wedded rhyme. Thy spirit gave 

A fragrance to all nature, and a tone 
To inexpressive silence. Each apart — 

Earth, Air and Ocean — claims thee as its own; 
The twain that bred thee, and the panting wave 
That clasped thee, like an overflowing heart. 



KEATS — SAPPHO 89 



KEATS— SAPPHO 

METHINKS, when first the nightingale 
Was mated to thy deathless song, 
That Sappho with emotion pale, 

Amid the Olympian throng. 
Again, as in the Lesbian grove. 

Stood listening with lips apart, 
To hear in thy melodious love 
The pantings of her heart. 



90 POE'S PURGATORY 



POE'S PURGATORY 

ALL others rest ; but I 
Dream-haunted lie — 
A distant roar, 
As of tumultuous waters, evermore 
About my brain. 

E'en Sleep, tho' fain 
To soothe me, flies affrighted, and alone 
I bear the incumbent stone 

Of Death 
That stifles breath, 
But not the hideous chorus crying "Shame !" 
Upon my name. 

Had I not Song ? 
Yea ; and it lingers yet 

The souls to fret 
Of an ignoble throng. 

Aflame with hate 
Of the exulting Fate 
That hurls their idols from her temple fair, 

And shrines me there. 



SILENCE 91 



SILENCE 

TEMPLE of God, from all eternity 
Alone like Him without beginning found; 
Of time and space and solitude the bound, 
Yet in thyself of all communion free. 
Is, then, the temple holier than He 

That dwells therein ? Must reverence surround 
With barriers the portal, lest a sound 
Profane it? Nay; behold a mystery! 

What was, abides; what is, hath ever been: 

The lowliest the loftiest sustains. 
A silence, by no breath of utterance stirred — 

Virginity in motherhood — remains. 
Clear, 'midst a cloud of all-pervading sin. 

The voice of Love's unutterable word. 



92 DAYBREAK 



DAYBREAK 

WHAT was thy dream, sweet Morning ? for, 
behold, 
Thine eyes are heavy with the balm of night, 
And, as reludiant lilies to the light. 
The languid lids of lethargy unfold. 
Was it the tale of Yesterday retold — 

An echo wakened from the western height. 
Where the warm glow of sunset dalliance bright 
Grew, with the pulse of waning passion, cold ? 

Or was it some heraldic vision grand 
Of legends that forgotten ages keep 

In twilight, where the sundering shoals of day 
Vex the dim sails, unpiloted, of Sleep, 

Till, one by one, the freighting fancies gay, 
Like bubbles, vanish on the treacherous strand r 



GLIMPSES 



li 



GLIMPSES 

AS one who in the hush of twilight hears 
The pausing pulse of Nature, when the Light 
Commingles in the dim mysterious rite 
Of Darkness with the mutual pledge of tears, 
Till soft, anon, one timorous star appears, 
Pale-budding as the earliest blossom white 
That comes in Winter's livery bedight. 
To hide the gifts of genial Spring she bears — 

So, unto me — what time the mysteries 

Of consciousness and slumber weave a dream 
And pause above it with abated breath. 
Like intervals in music — lights arise, 

Beyond prophetic Nature's farthest gleam. 
That teach me half the mystery of Death. 



94 HOMELESS 



M 



HOMELESS 

ETHINKS that if my spirit could behold 
Its earthly habitation void and chill, 
Whence all its time-encircled good and ill 
Expanded to eternity, 'twould fold 
Its trembling pinions o'er the bosom cold, 
Recalling there the pulse's wonted thrill, 
And lean, perchance, to catch the echo still 
That erst in life the dream of passion told. 

How calm the dissolution! Could she spurn 
Her spouse, so late, and brother? Could she trace 

The strange familiar lineaments, and mark 
The doom of her own writing in the face, 

To find, alas! no more the vital spark. 
Nor breathe one sigh of pity to return? 



U N M O O R E D 95 



UNMOORED 

TO die in sleep — to drift from dream to dream 
Along the banks of slumber, beckoned on 
Perchance by forms familiar, till anon. 
Unconsciously, the ever-widening stream 
Beyond the breakers bore thee, and the beam 
Of everlasting morning woke upon 
Thy dazzled gaze, revealing one by one 
Thy visions grown immortal in its gleam. 

O blessed consummation! thus to feel 
In Death no touch of terror. Tenderly 

As shadows to the evening hills, he came 
In garb of God's dear messenger to thee. 

Nor on thy weary eyelids broke the seal, 

In reverence for a brother's holier name. 



96 THE AGONY 



THE AGONY 

I WRESTLED, as did Jacob, till the dawn, 
With the relu6lant Spirit of the Night 
That keeps the keys of Slumber. Worn and 
white. 
We paused a panting moment, while anon 
The darkness paled around us. Thereupon — 
His mighty limbs relaxing in affright — 
The Angel pleaded : " Lo, the morning light ! 
O Israel, release me, and begone!" 

Then said I, "Nay, a captive to my will 
I hold thee, till the blessing thou dost keep 
Be mine." Whereat he breathed upon my brow; 

And, as the dew upon the twilight hill. 
So on my spirit, over-wearied now. 
Came tenderly the benedidlion, Sleep. 



THE PETREL 97 



THE PETREL 

A WANDERER o'er the sea-graves ever 
green, 
W hereon the foam-flowers blossom day by day, 
Thou flittest as a doomful shadow gray 
That from the wave no sundering Hght can wean. 
What wouldst thou from the deep unfathomed 
glean, 
Frail voyager? and whither leads thy way? 
Or art thou, as the sailor legends say, 
An exile from the spirit-world unseen? 

Lo! desolate, above a colder tide. 

Pale Memory, a sea-bird like to thee, 

Flits outward, where the whitening billows hide 
What seemed of Life the one reality — 

A mist whereon the morning bloom hath died. 
Returning, ghost-like, to the restless sea. 



98 THE PORTRAIT 



THE PORTRAIT 

EACH has his Angel-Guardian. Mine, I know, 
Looks on me from that pictured face. Behold, 
How clear, between those rifted clouds of gold. 
The radiant brow ! It is the morning glow 
Of innocence, ere yet the heart let go 

The leading-strings of heaven. Upon the eyes 
No shadow: like the restful noonday skies 
They sanctify the teeming world below. 

Why bows my soul before it ? None but thou, 

O tender child, has known the life estranged 
From thee and all that made thy days of joy 
The measure of my own. Behold me now — 
The man that begs a blessing of the boy — 
His very self; but from himself how changed ! 



THE BOY BISHOP 99 



THE BOY BISHOP 

" A GAME, Marcellus!" "Well, what shall 
Jl\ it be? 

Let's play we're Christians." And with one 
accord 

The children grouped around their mimic lord, 
Marcellus, throned as Sovereign PontiflF. He 
The part so often played in mockery 

With solemn rite enacted — word for word 

Repeating as on each in turn he poured 
The waters of a new Nativity. 

Then burst the thunders of an edict. Rome 
Trembled, and all her gods offended frowned, 

Foreshadowing the hurricane to be. 

Men faltered; but among the faithful found — 

The yeanlings of the flock — -with martyrdom 
Marcellus and his neophytes were crowned. 

LOFC. 



100 ASLEEP 



N 



ASLEEP 
AY, wake him not ! 



Unfelt our presence near, 
Nor falls a whisper on his dreaming ear: 
He sees but Sleep's celestial visions clear. 

All else forgot. 

And who shall say- 
That, in life's waking dream. 
There be not ever near us those we deem 
(As now our faces to the Sleeper seem) 

Far, far away ? 



ST AFRA TO THE FLAMES loi 



ST AFRA TO THE FLAMES 

HERE, on the prey of passion, famished Flames, 
Feed here! Spare not your victim. Torture 
tames 
The wanton flesh rebellious. Let the heat 
Of these your fierce caresses free the feet 
And loose the fettered pinions of desire. 
Delay not! Leap the barriers and fire 
The citadel, the heart. A flame is there 
To which your kiss is coldness. Clothe me fair, 
O Christ, with purple penance. Crown me queen 
Of agonies that cleave all mists between 

My God and me! Life's vintage drop by drop 
Fast fills the destined measure of my cup. 
QuafF, Lord, my potion! Pledge me, and Thy 

breath 
Shall sweeten all the bitterness of death. 



102 THE INTERPRETER 



AN INTERPRETER 

WHAT, O Eternity, 
Is Time to thee? — 
What to the boundless All 
My portion small? 

Lift up thine eyes, my soul! 
Against the tidal roll 

Stands many a stone. 

Whereon the breakers thrown 
Are dashed to spray — 
Else were the Ocean dumb. 

So, in the way 

Of tides eternal, thou 

Abidest now; 
And God himself doth come 

A suppliant to thee. 

Love's prisoned thought to free. 



HOLY GROUND 103 



EARTH'S TRIBUTE 

FIRST the grain, and then the blade- 
The one destroyed, the other made; 
Then stalk and blossom, and again 
The gold of newly minted grain. 

So Life, by Death the reaper cast 
To earth, again shall rise at last; 
For 'tis the service of the sod 
To render God the things of God. 



HOLY GROUND 

PAUSE where apart the fallen sparrow 
lies. 
And lightly tread; 
For there the pity of a Father's eyes 
Enshrines the dead. 



104 INSOMNIA 



THE HOUSEHOLDERS 

ONE plucked the grape, and trod the wine, 
And headlong rushed the sotted swine 
To perish in the sea. 
One blessed the cup, and poured the blood. 
And lo! about His banquet stood 
The brides of Chastity. 



E 



INSOMNIA 
'EN this, Lord, didst Thou bless — 



'This pain of sleeplessness — 

The livelong night. 
Urging God's gentlest angel from Thy side. 
That anguish only might with Thee abide 

Until the light. 

Yea, e'en the last and best, 
Thy victory and rest. 

Came thus to Thee; 
For 'twas while others calmly slept around. 
That Thou alone in sleeplessness wast found, 

To comfort me. 



BARTIMEUS TO THE BIRD 105 



ANONYMOUS 

ANONYMOUS — nor needs a name 
To tell the secret whence the flame, 
With light, and warmth, and incense, came 
A new creation to proclaim. 

So was it when. His labour done, 
God saw His work, and smiled thereon; 
His glory in the picture shone, 
But name upon the canvas, none. 



BARTIMEUS TO THE BIRD 

HAD I no revelation but thy voice — 
No word but thine — 
Still would my soul in certitude rejoice 

That love divine 
Thy heart, his hidden instrument, employs, 
To waken mine. 



io6 AT SEA 



THE OLD PASTOR 

HOW long, O Lord, to wait 
Beside this open gate ? 
My sheep with many a lamb 
Have entered, and I am 
Alone, and it is late. 



AT SEA 

THY beauty fills each bubble-dome 
Upon the waters wide: 
So may it in Thy lowliest home — 
My bosom — Lord, abide. 



ALL IN ALL 107 



STILLING THE TEMPEST 

'^T^WAS all she could:— The gift that Nature 

1 gave, 

The torrent of her tresses, did she spill 
Before His feet: and lo, the troubled wave 

Of passion heard His v^^hisper, "Peace be still!" 



ALL IN ALL 

WE know Thee, each in part — 
A portion small; 
But love Thee, as Thou art — 

The All in all: 
For Reason and the rays thereof 
Are starlight to the noon of Love. 



io8 THE GOOD SEED 



T 



THE GOOD SEED 

HE Magi came to Bethlehem, 
The House of Bread, and following them. 
As they the Star, I too am led 
To Christ, the living House of Bread. 

A pilgrim from the hour of birth. 
The night-cold bosom of the earth 

I traversed, heavenw^ard journeying, 

A hidden prophecy of Spring 
My only guide, a lifted blade 
My only weapon, till the Shade, 

The latest to withstand me, lay 

Death-smitten at the door of Day. 

O Light! O heavenly Warmth! to you. 

My cup-bearers, I quaffed the dew. 
The pledge and sacramental sign 
Of Life that mingling first with mine — 

A sap-like inspiration — ran 

To mingle with the life of man. 

As leaped the Infant in the womb, 
At Mary's voice, e'en so to bloom 
And ripeness, while the reapers sang, 
My soul — their songs inspiring — sprang 



THE GOOD SEED 109 

To meet the scythe, the flail, the stone 

Of sacrifice, whereby alone, 

Through waves of palpitating flame. 
The Bread upon the altar came. 

And here, O mystery of Love ! 
Behold, from highest heaven above, 

Through Me^ the Son of God again 

A vi6lim for the sons of men ! 



no ANGEL'S CHRISTMAS QUEST 



THE ANGEL'S CHRISTMAS QUEST 

"TT THERE have ye laid my Lord? 

VV Behold, I find Him not! 
Hath He, in heaven adored, 

His home forgot? 
Give me, O sons of men. 
My truant God again ! " 

" A voice from sphere to sphere — 

A faltering murmur — ran, 
'Behold, He is not here! 

Perchance with Man, 
The low^lier made than w^e, 
He hides His majesty.' " 

Then, hushed in w^ondering awe. 
The spirit held his breath. 
And bowed: for, lo, he saw 
O'ershadowing Death, 
A Mother's hands above, 
Swathing the limbs of Love! 



OUT OF BOUNDS iii 



THE LAMB-CHILD 

WHEN Christ the Babe was born, 
Full many a little lamb 
Upon the wintry hills forlorn 
Was nestled near its dam; 

And, waking or asleep. 

Upon His Mother's breast, 
For love of her, each mother-sheep 

And baby-lamb He blessed. 



OUT OF BOUNDS 

A LITTLE Boy of heavenly birth, 
But far from home to-day. 
Comes down to find His ball, the Earth, 
That sin has cast away. 

O comrades, let us one and all 
Join in to get Him back His ball! 



112 A LENTEN THOUGHT 



A LENTEN THOUGHT 

ALONE with Thee, who canst not be alone, 
At midnight, in Thine everlasting day ; 
Lo, less than naught, of nothingness undone, 
I, prayerless, pray. 

Behold — and with Thy bitterness make sweet. 

What sweetest is in bitterness to hide — 
Like Magdalen, I grovel at Thy feet. 
In lowly pride. 

Smite, till my wounds beneath Thy scourging 
cease ; 
Soothe, till my heart in agony hath bled ; 
Nor rest my soul with enmity at peace. 
Till Death be dead. 



MATER DOLOROSA 113 



ON CALVARY 

IN the shadow of the rood 
Love and Shame together stood ; 
Love, that bade Him bear the blame 
Of her fallen sister Shame ; 
Shame, that by the pangs thereof 
Bade Him break His Heart for Love. 



MATER DOLOROSA 

AGAIN maternal Autumn grieves. 
As blood-like drip the maple leaves 
On Nature's Calvary. 
And every sap-forsaken limb 
Renew^s the mystery of Him 
Who died upon a Tree, 



114 EASTER MORNING 



STABAT 

WHY, O my God, hast Thou forsake Me\? 
Not so my Mother; for behold and see. 
She steadfast stands! O Father, shall it be 
That she abides when Thou forsakest Me? 



RABBONI! 

',T BRING Thee balm, and lo! Thou art not 

X here! 

Twice have I poured mine ointment on thy brow. 
And washed Thy feet with tears. Disdain'st 
Thou now 
The spikenard and the myrrh ? 

" Has Death, alas, betrayed Thee with a kiss 
That seals Thee from the memory of mine ? " 
"Mary!" It is the selfsame Voice Divine, 

"Rabboni!"— only this. 



EASTER LILIES 115 



EASTER MORNING 

BEHOLD, the night of sorrow gone, 
Like Magdalen the tearful Dawn 
Goes forth with love's anointing sweet, 
To kiss again the Master's feet ! 



EASTER LILIES 

THOUGH long in wintry sleep ye lay, 
The powers of darkness could not stay 
Your coming at the call of day. 
Proclaiming Spring. 

Nay, like the faithful virgins wise, 
With lamps replenished ye arise, 
Ere dawn the death-anointed eyes 
Of Christ the king. 



WBW^M^^ 



ii6 THE ASSUMPTION 



EASTER LAMBS 

OURS is the echoed cry 
Of helpless Innocents about to die. 
Remembering them 
In Ramah for the Lamb of Bethlehem 

Untimely slain, 
We, when the paschal sacrifice is nigh. 
Lament again. 



THE ASSUMPTION 

BEHOLD! the mother bird 
The Fledgeling's voice hath heard ! 
He calls anew, 

" It was thy breast 

That warmed the nest 
From whence I flew. 
Upon a loftier tree 
Of life I wait for thee; 
Rise, mother-dove, and come. 
Thy Fledgeling calls thee home!" 



TRIUMPH 117 



TRIUMPH 

DESPITE the North Wind's boast, 
Despite the muffled host 
Of hushing snow, 
There cometh from below 
Out of the darkness wakened, one by one 
The dreamers of the Sun — 
Not in the bleak array 
Of winter, but with fragrant banners gay 
Leaping the barriers strong 
Of Ice, and loosing Song, 
The prisoner, and letting go 
Long-fettered Laughter, as the shadowy Foe 
Shrinks from the echoing cry 
Of "Life and Victory!" 



ii8 MY ANGEL 



o 



MY ANGEL 

LITTLE child, that once was I, 
And still in part must be, 
When other children pass me by. 
Again thy face I see. 

Where art thou? Can the Innocence 
That here no more remains. 

Forget, tho' early banished hence. 
What Memory retains? 

Alas! and could'st thou look upon 
The features that were thine. 

To see of tender graces none 
Abiding now in mine. 

Thy heart compassionate would plead, 

And, haply, not in vain. 
As Angel Guardian, home to lead 

The wanderer again. 



TO HER THREE DAYS' CHILD 1 1 9 



TO HER THREE DAYS' CHI^D 

I ONLY, its mother, have known 
The Hfe that is taken away. 
As the grape and the vine have we grown 

Hour by hour, day by day; 
Flesh of flesh, blood of blood, bone of bone. 

As it was, evermore must it be, 

O Babe from thy mother removed; 

As light unto shadow are we. 
Each in other approved, 

Two in one, and in God, one in three. 



120 AVE ATQUE VALE 



w 



AVE ATQUE VALE 

HERE wast thou, little song, 
That hast delayed so long 
To come to me ? 
" Mute in the mind of God: 
Till where thy feet had trod, 
I followed thee." 



BFu :uS 



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